


Twelve Christmas Eves

by Bremol



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 18:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14314914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bremol/pseuds/Bremol
Summary: Isobel has a lesson to learn...how she learns it may prove to be just a bit of deja vu...or maybe it's all been a dream.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's another RichardxIsobel Christmas story...and CharlesxElsie feature in it too. How could I leave them out? This story is inspired by a movie (12 Dates of Christmas) just like The Spirit of Christmas was, but I've changed things up (even more than I did in that story) from the movie...even changed the name. No ghosts or witches in this Christmas tale, but I hope you enjoy it.

December 24th – day one

 

Isobel stretched as she pushed back from her desk.  She’d been sitting and catching up on all of her paperwork, or data entry as Elsie liked to call it since the system had gone completely digital a few years back.  Everything was digital today, even the music she listened to no longer came from a record or a cd.

Hearing her mobile, she sighed when she looked at the display and saw the name.  Dickie Grey.  She was going to murder Violet for giving the man her number and setting them up on a blind date for this evening.

Christmas Eve!

Of all the nights for a blind date!

“Insufferable woman!”

“Well hello to you, too.”  Elsie said as she walked into the office, an eyebrow arched.

“Oh hush.”

Elsie shrugged as she sat down in a chair across from Isobel’s desk.  “So what has the old bat done now?”

Isobel couldn’t help but chuckle at the nickname.  She remembered the first time she’d heard Elsie use it.  “At least I don’t nearly choke to death on my tea when you call her that now.”

Elsie laughed, eyes twinkling with mischief.  “So, what did she do?”

“She’s set me up on a blind date.”

“Oh?  With who?  Or did she not tell you?”

“She told me.”

“Well then who?”  Elsie huffed.

“Dickie Grey.”

“Baron Merton?  Whatever in the world was she thinking?”

Isobel shrugged.  “That he’s lonely and so am I.”

“But to subject you to…”  Elsie shook her head.  “So are you going to go?”

“What else have I to do?  Matthew is off with Mary somewhere.  You and Charles are going to the party at his parents’.”

“You’re not going to the Crawley’s Christmas Eve Ball?”

“I hadn’t planned on it, but I’m sure that’s where Dickie will take me.  He never misses it.”

Elsie nodded.  “I’m surprised Lady Mary is missing it.”

“You know that she does as she pleases.  Matthew actually enjoys the ball and wanted to go, but Mary has no intentions of being anywhere near Edith.  She’s still angry over Edith’s marriage putting her a higher title than Mary has.”

“Uppity minx.”

Isobel laughed and shook her head.  “You and your nicknames.”

“You like my nicknames, Izzie, and you know it.”

Isobel smiled and nodded.  “I especially like that one.  It brings back wonderful memories.”

Elsie’s eyes twinkled with the memory.  “Me rescuing you and having no clue that I’d just rescued the wife of the heir to the Grantham title.”

“Reggie.”  Isobel sighed, lost in memory.  “He couldn’t believe I’d been ice skating and fallen in.  He scolded me for weeks over that, but I didn’t mind.  I’d met a new friend that called me Izzie.”

“What did he think when you told him about me?”

“He was happy that I’d found a real friend.  I didn’t have any at that point.  All the women I was around were vapid and vain.  They only pretended to like me because they all knew Reggie was the heir to the Grantham title.  Most of them disapproved of my working, especially as a nurse.  The family always pretended because they had to like us.  They hated the fact that a upper middle class doctor was the heir.”

“I remember the fuss they made when Matthew became the heir.  But they’ve changed their tunes.”

“Well, most of them.  I still have problems with Cora, but you know that.”

“Yes, I do.  Her problem is that she’s an American that turned herself into English aristocracy.  It’s gone to her head.  Everyone always says that Lady Mary is like her father.  I say she’s like her mother.”

“Oh, don’t let her hear you say that.”  Isobel laughed.  “She would hate it.  She never acknowledges that she has American relations.”  Isobel shrugged and rolled her eyes.  “I’ve never understood the family.”

“I will say that you and the old bat get along much better than you did once upon a time.”

“My saving her life when she had pneumonia changed her attitude toward me.”

“And what about…”

Isobel held up her hand, stopping Elsie mid-sentence.  “Don’t go there, Els.”

“But Izzie, he…”  Elsie stopped when her friend shook her head.  “Fine.  And you call us Scots stubborn,” she mumbled.

“We English can be stubborn.  I believe the man you’re married to proves that.”

Elsie chuckled, smiling as she thought of her beloved Charlie.  “Ach, tis true it is.”

“Don’t go slipping into your brogue just because you’re thinking of Charles.”  Isobel shook her head at her friend.  “You two are hopeless.”

“Not hopeless, just still madly in love.”

“I’m so glad I talked you into nudging him along.   I knew he was in love with you.”

“I’m glad I let you.  We wouldn’t have our Ernie and Mae.”

“I still laugh when I remember the look on yours and Charles’ faces when you were told you were having twins.  And then the look on yours when Charles suggested naming them using your middle names.”

“Well, really.  It wasn’t very original.”

“No, but you must admit, the names fit them.”

Elsie nodded, her lips turning up in a soft smile at the thought of her children.  “They do.”

“Is Mae going to be at the party tonight?”

“She is.”  Elsie shook her head.  “She’s too much like me.  She’s so close to her due date she’s miserable, but not even her beloved Da could get her to stay home.”

“Edward couldn’t, either?”

“He didn’t even try after Charlie had no luck.  She loves her grandda, but…”

“But he isn’t Charles.”

“No.”

“What about Ernie?  Is he going to make it back?  I still can’t believe he lives in New York.”

Elsie shrugged.  “Who knew he’d want to do something his father did and doesn’t like to talk about?  Charles still grumbles when he thinks of his son on stage.”

“Yes, but we all know he’s extremely proud of Ernie.”

“Yes, he is.”

Isobel sighed when her mobile dinged to remind her she had a voicemail.  “I suppose I should listen to that.”

“You know that if you don’t, and you ignore him, the old bat is going to be knocking down your door with her cane.”

Isobel laughed.  “Thank you, Els.”

“You’re welcome.”  Elsie stood and moved to the door, snarling her nose when she opened it and _The Twelve Days of Christmas_ filtered into the room from the overhead sound system.  “Why must they play that song over and over?”

“I don’t know.  It’s like the Christmas version of _Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer_.”

Elsie laughed, the laughter ringing out and echoing down the hall as she left Isobel’s office.

Isobel scowled when her mobile dinged again.  “Alright!” she fussed at it as she picked it up.  Listening to the message, she rolled her eyes…just what she knew he would ask.  _Would she like to go to the Crawley’s Christmas Eve ball with him?_   Dialing his number, she plastered a smile on her face.  “Dickie?  It’s Isobel.  I’d love to go to the ball with you tonight.  I’m just leaving work now.  My place at six sounds fine.  I’ll see you then.”  Ending the call, she snarled at her reflection in the mobile’s screen.  “What are you doing?”

Shaking herself out of the haze, she stood up and rushed about, gathering her things.  Hurrying out the door, she half ran down the hall, realizing that she wouldn’t have much time to get ready because it was far later than she thought it was.

“Bloody hell!” she shouted as she felt herself falling backward.  Her head bounced off the floor as she landed flat of her back, her things scattering about her.

“My god,” she heard someone shout just before her eyes rolled back in her head.

Isobel squinted as she blinked and opened her eyes a few minutes later.  “What happened?”

“You ran into Igor.”

“Igor?”  Isobel frowned.  “Who?”

“Never mind.”  Elsie told her as she helped her friend sit up.  “I’m surprised you didn’t crack your head open.  Come on, let’s go have one of the doctors look at you.  I’m sure you have a concussion.”

“I’m a nurse, Elsie.  I can take care of myself.  I have to go.”

Elsie rolled her eyes.  “Suit yourself.”

“I’m already running behind.  If I think I need a doctor, you know that Richard Clarkson will be at the ball tonight, he always is.”

“Well, he might not be tonight.  If he’s heard you’re going to be there with Dickie Grey…”

“Don’t, Elsie.”

“Fine.  Go on then.”  Elsie shook her head as she watched her friend rush toward the lift.  “Bloody fool.  The man loves you,” she whispered then turned and made her way back toward Charles’ office.  They were running behind themselves and needed to get going or they’d be late for the party.  She smiled when she thought of Mother Carson’s reaction.  The lady wouldn’t be angry at her Charlie, but his father would huff.  Of course, Elsie knew all she had to do was bat her eyelashes at her father-in-law and they’d be back in his good graces.

Now if only it were that easy to fix things with her friends.


	2. Chapter 2

December 24th – day two

 

“Bloody hell!” Isobel shouted as she felt herself falling backward.  Her head bounced off the floor as she landed flat of her back, her things scattering about her.

“My god,” she heard someone shout just before her eyes rolled back in her head.

Isobel squinted as she blinked and opened her eyes a few minutes later.  “What happened?”

“You ran into Igor.”

“Igor?”  Isobel frowned.  “Who?”

“Never mind.”  Elsie told her as she helped her friend sit up.  “I’m surprised you didn’t crack your head open.  Come on, let’s go have one of the doctors look at you.  I’m sure you have a concussion.”

“I’m a nurse, Elsie.  I can take care of myself.  I have to go.”

Elsie rolled her eyes.  “Suit yourself.”

“I’m already running behind.  If I think I need a doctor, you know that Richard Clarkson will be at the ball tonight, he always is.”  Isobel frowned after she said the words.  Looking around, her frown deepened.  Hadn’t this all happened before?

“Izzie?”

Looking up at her friend, Isobel shook her head.  “It’s nothing.  I’m fine.  I really do need to be going.”

“Maybe you _should_ have someone look at you before you go.  Richard might not be there tonight if he’s heard…”

“Don’t, Elsie.”

Elsie shook her head and raised her hands.  “Fine, fine.  And you call us Scots stubborn,” she mumbled.

“We English can be as stubborn.  I would think that fellow you’re married to would be proof enough of that.”

Elsie chuckled, “Well, true.”

Brushing any dirt off herself, Isobel gathered her things.  “I’m going now.  I’m even more behind than I was before.”

Elsie shook her head.  “Worried about being late for a date with Dickie Grey.  Good grief.”

 

~*~

 

“I’m sorry I’m running behind.  It was later than I thought when I called you and then there was an incident when I was leaving that put me behind even more.  It’s no excuse, just an explanation.”  Isobel told Dickie as she finished the last bit of her getting ready.

“It’s really no bother.  My late wife was never on time, I’m rather used to it.”

_“And that’s the way to make me feel better,”_ she thought to herself while plastering on a smile.  Stuffing her feet into her shoes, she put in the last earring and grabbed her wrap.  “That’s me ready, then.  Shall we go?”

“Very lovely,” he told her as he gave her a once over.  “Very festive.”

“Thank you.”  Isobel told him graciously, wishing he’d stop dithering and get a move on.  She was already getting texts from Violet which was making her mobile vibrate and buzz about in her clutch.  If the woman didn’t stop, she was going to blow the expensive piece of gadgetry up.  Doing her best to hold back a sigh when Dickie finally held out his arm to escort her out, she had the sudden feeling of déjà vu she’d had at the office.

She’d done this before.

Was she this bored the last time?

_“Yes,”_ her inner voice practically shouted at her.  _“We were bored out of our minds.”_

Sighing and shaking her head, Isobel looked about to make sure no one was watching then gulped down the last of her wine, half choking when Violet’s cane tapped against her chair.  “Violet!  Bloody hell,” she gasped as she coughed into her napkin.

“Language, cousin.”  Violet gave her a look as she sat down.  “So.  Why didn’t you answer my texts?”

Isobel rolled her eyes as she wiped her mouth and looked around for one of the wait staff.  She needed another glass of wine.

_Or something stronger._

“Well?”  Violet demanded.

“I was busy trying to get ready for this date you set me up on.  I didn’t have time to stop and answer you.  I would have been even later than I was.”  Isobel sighed when another glass of wine was placed in front of her.  Taking a long drink, she rolled her eyes when Violet gave her a look for being so improper.  “Oh do stop.  Dickie Grey is boring as…well…I’d rather watch paint dry.  Why did you think we would be a good match?”

“He’s lonely and he likes you.”

“That is the most ridiculous…” Isobel stopped and took another long drink of her wine, draining the glass and turning to motion for another.  At this rate she’d be better off having them bring the bottle.

“Are you planning to get drunk?”

“I will if I want to.  I’m not driving.”

Violet rolled her eyes then leaned forward.  “If you’re so blind as to not know why I set you up with that bore of a baron, then I was right about you all along.”

“You know I don’t want to talk about that.  Besides, why would my being here with Dickie Grey bother Richard?”

“You really are a fool.  The man…”

Isobel held up her hand.  “No.  You don’t get to call me a fool.  You don’t know what happened.  The man clearly…” she stopped and shook her head.  “I’m not going into this with you.  Now leave me be.”

Violet huffed as she watched her cousin get up and storm off.  What Isobel didn’t know was that Violet did know what had happened, Richard had told her.  Of course no one knew that she and Richard were friends, that was something they’d kept to themselves.  The last thing she needed was someone thinking there was some sort of secret assignation going on with the two of them.

 

~*~

 

Isobel was fuming.  How dare that woman bring up what had to be one of the worst times of her life after the death of Reggie!  Dowager Countess she may be, but the title really didn’t mean much these days, and it sure the bloody hell didn’t give her…

And then the tears came again, flooding her eyes just as they had two years ago.

Why had he done that?

Why couldn’t he have just left things as they were?

Hadn’t he understood she was perfectly fine with things the way they were?  They’d been friends, confidantes, and she’d enjoyed that.

And then he’d had to go and…

“My god…this _has_ happened before,” she breathed as she swiped at the tears half frozen on her cheeks.  “What the hell is happening to me?”


	3. Chapter 3

December 24th – day 3

 

“Bloody hell!” Isobel shouted as she felt herself falling backward.  Her head bounced off the floor as she landed flat of her back, her things scattering about her.

“My god,” she heard someone shout just before her eyes rolled back in her head.

Isobel squinted as she blinked and opened her eyes a few minutes later.  “What happened?”

“You ran into Igor.”

“Igor?”  Isobel frowned.  “Who?”

“Never mind.”  Elsie told her as she helped her friend sit up.  “I’m surprised you didn’t crack your head open.  Come on, let’s go have one of the doctors look at you.  I’m sure you have a concussion.”

“I’m a nurse, I’ll see to myself.”  Isobel sighed as she pushed herself up.  _“Here I go again,”_ she thought as she brushed off her trousers.  “I’ve got to go.  I’m late.”

“But Isobel...”

“I’ll be fine, Elsie.  Besides you know...” she started then stopped herself.  If she brought Richard’s name up, Elsie would tell her he might not be there if he’d heard she was going to be there with Dickie and she was tired of people talking about the man...or trying to get her to talk about him.  “Never mind.  I’m going now.”

“Richard might not be there if he’s heard you’re coming with Dickie.”

Isobel rolled her eyes and shook her head.  So much for not saying the man’s name.  “What Richard Clarkson does, or does not, do is of no concern to me.”

Elsie watched her friend walk off and shook her head.  She hated what that whole mess last year had done to her friends.  Isobel had closed herself off to anyone outside of those she’d known for years, especially men.  Charlie was the only man beside Matthew that Isobel had in her life.  And Richard...dear sweet man was broken as Elsie had never seen him.

“Well now there’s bleedin’ Baron Merton,” she huffed as she turned to make her way back down the hall to her office.  “I don’t even remember why I was in the hallway in the first place.”

 

~*~

 

Isobel sighed as she stared at herself in the mirror.  She’d decided that if she wore a different dress to the ball that maybe she could change the outcome.  Shrugging, she stuffed her feet into her shoes and put on the last earring just as the doorbell rang.

Taking a deep breath, she walked to the door and plastered on a smile.  “Dickie,” she greeted as she moved to let him in.  “I’m sorry that I’m running behind.  Give me just a moment.”

Giving her the once over, Dickie smiled at her.  “You look lovely and it’s quite alright.  My late wife was always running behind making us late for everything.”

Isobel smiled and nodded as she made her way back through the sitting room to the back of the house where her bedroom was.  Looking at herself in the mirror once more, she tucked a hair in here and there, then gave up and decided putting it up made more sense.  Rushing around, she managed to find hairpins and quickly pulled her hair up into a loose upsweep that left a few curls about her face and covered up the fact that she hadn’t washed it when she’d showered in her rush to save time.

And now here she was wasting the time she’d gained.

“Is this day ever going to end?” she mumbled.

 

~*~

 

Watching Dickie dance with Prudence Shackleton, Isobel kept an eye out for Violet.  She knew what would happen if the woman caught her and the last thing she wanted was to repeat that conversation a third time.  She was so lost in thought, that she started when she heard Violet say her name.  _Damn it._

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?”

“No.  I am not having this conversation again.”

Violet scowled.  “I haven’t spoken to you tonight because you wouldn’t answer my calls or texts and have been avoiding me since you arrived.”

Squeezing the bridge of her nose, Isobel took a deep breath.  “I didn’t answer your texts or calls because I was trying to get ready to keep from being late.  As you’ve already pointed out, I was still late, but I would have been more so if I had taken the time to answer the ridiculous amount of calls and texts.  You practically blew my mobile up.”

“And why were you late?  I know Dickie called you early enough to give you ample time to ready yourself.”

“I was busy at the office.  Can we not have this conversation and say we did?”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”  Violet asked with a scowl.  “How many glasses of wine have you had?”

“Not enough.”  Isobel mumbled.

“Did you hit your head?”

“Funny you should ask that.”

Violet shook her head.  “I think I should send Richard over to have a look at you.”

“No.”

“I was surprised he showed up.”

“Violet, I said no.”  Isobel hissed, sighing when her cousin started in about Richard...just as she’d done the last two times Isobel had lived this day. 

Was there anything she could do to change this outcome?

Saying no didn’t seem to deter people.

“Did you hear a word I said?”

“Yes.  And you don’t get to talk to me about Richard.  You don’t know what happened, and frankly, it’s none of your business.  Excuse me.  I wanted to speak with Edith about something.”  Isobel lied, raising an eyebrow as she walked away. 

This was different.

Maybe she _could_ change the outcome of this ridiculous day.

Though now that she’d lied about wanting to talk to Edith, she’d have to think of something to talk to the young Marchioness about.  She knew that Violet was watching her.  Well, maybe she’d just tell Edith the truth.  _“Hello, Darling.  I just lied and told your grandmother that I wanted to talk to you.  Can you please make it look like what I’m saying is very important?”_   Oh yes, that would work out well.

Of all the bloody messes to get into.

“When is this dream going to end?” she muttered, startled when a voice she recognized come from behind her.

“That bad?”  Richard asked, his grey-blue eyes taking her in, lingering on her hair the way he’d always done.

“Richard.”  Isobel breathed, taking a drink of wine to steady herself.  “Sorry you heard that.  Just the mutterings of a woman wondering why she’s here.  I didn’t expect to see you.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.  I’m sorry to have disturbed her.  Have a Happy Christmas, Isobel.”  Richard nodded at her before walking away.

Isobel sighed.  This night just kept going from bad to worse.  Maybe she’d tell Dickie she wasn’t feeling well.  After all, she did have a headache from her fall earlier...she wouldn’t be lying.  She would tell him that she wanted him to stay and continue to enjoy the ball.  Seeing him heading her way, she paused and waited for him to catch up.

_“Well, at least now I don’t have to try and talk to Edith about something important,”_ she thought to herself.


	4. Chapter 4

December 24th – day four

 

“Bloody hell!” Isobel shouted as she felt herself falling backward.  Her head bounced off the floor as she landed flat of her back, her things scattering about her.

“My god,” she heard someone shout just before her eyes rolled back in her head.

Isobel squinted as she blinked and opened her eyes a few minutes later.  “What happened?”

“You ran into Igor.”

“Igor?”  Isobel frowned.  “Who?”

“Never mind.”  Elsie told her as she helped her friend sit up.  “I’m surprised you didn’t crack your head open.  Come on, let’s go have one of the doctors look at you.  I’m sure you have a concussion.”

“I’m a nurse, I’ll see to myself.”  Isobel sighed as she pushed herself up.  _“Here I go again,”_ she thought as she brushed off her trousers.  “I’ve got to go.”

“Going to be late for your date with Dickie?”

“No, actually, I’m going to call and tell him I have a headache and can’t go with him.  I won’t be lying.”

“Elsie...”  Charles came up, saying her name then stopping when he saw the scattered things on the floor.  “What happened?”

Isobel arched an eyebrow.  _This is new._   “I took a spill but I’m fine.  I really do have a headache so I’m going to go.”

“You should let one of the doctors...” Charles started, stopping when Isobel sighed and shook her head.

“I’ve already told Elsie when she suggested that...I’m a nurse.  I’ll see to myself.”

Charles held up his hands.  “Fine.  Fine.”

Elsie patted his arm as they watched Isobel leave.  “She’s so testy anymore.”

“Ever since things went sour between her and Richard.”

Elsie nodded.  “I’ve tried to talk to her about it, but she shuts me down.”

“Why won’t she talk to you?  You’re her friend.”

“Because if she talks about it, she has to admit she’s in love with Richard.  She doesn’t want to admit that because admitting it means she was wrong to do what she did.”

“She’s the one that pushed you into nudging me along...why is she so afraid of love?”  Charles asked as he held out his arm for Elsie.

Sliding her arm through Charles’, Elsie walked with him back toward her office.  “Because if she lets herself love again, she takes the chance on being hurt again.”

“But isn’t she hurt now?  I don’t see the difference.”

“Oh Charlie.  The hurt now is a hurt she can hide behind, that she can handle.  You remember how devastated she was when Reg died.  She’s trying to protect herself from that.”

Turning to look down at his wife, Charles caressed her cheek.  “Every day I’ve had with you is worth any hurt losing you would bring me, though I pray that I never have to find out what it’s like to lose you.”

Elsie felt her eyes fill with tears at the sweet honesty of her husband’s words.  It wasn’t often he opened up like this, but when he did she cherished each moment.  “Charlie,” she whispered.  “I love you.”

Charles caught a tear with his thumb.  “No tears, Love.  Ma’ll smack me if she thinks I’ve made her favorite daughter-in-law cry.”

Elsie laughed, “I’m her only daughter-in-law, Charlie.”

Charles grinned at her laughter.  “Come on.  If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late for the party.”

Elsie shrugged.  “If we’re late they’ll just think...” she let her sentence hang, grinning when she watched the tops of Charles’ ears turn red.

“Elsie,” he scolded and shook his head.

“I’m merely stating the truth.  After all, we’ve been late for that reason more often than not.  Why wouldn’t they think that?”

“We haven’t been late for that reason for a long time.  Now, come on.”

Laughing as she followed her husband, Elsie shook her head.  “You’re so easy, Charlie,” she whispered laughing when he tugged at her and shook his head, playfully scowling at her.

 

~*~

 

Isobel rolled her eyes when her mobile dinged with yet another text from Violet.  Dickie had been understanding when she’d called and broke their date, but Violet wouldn’t take, _“I have a headache,”_ as an answer to her queries as to why Isobel had...as Violet put it...stood Dickie up.  She had no intentions of telling Violet about her fall, the woman just needed to accept that Isobel had a headache and that was that.

Taking another drink of her wine, she muted the notifications for Violet’s texts and calls then put her mobile on the sofa arm beside her before letting her head fall back against the soft cushion behind her.  Closing her eyes, she wondered what she would do with herself tomorrow then she scoffed. 

“Tomorrow.  Bah.  I’ll repeat this day again,” she grumbled.  Well, fine.  If she was destined to repeat this day over and over again, she was going to do some of the things she’d always wanted to do but never had.  Now, it wouldn’t matter.  A laugh escaped as she thought of one of the things she’d never done.  “I wonder what Matthew will think when I show up in that shiny red sports car.”

Deciding that she would take a bath and think of all the things she was going to do, she pushed herself up, grabbed the bottle of wine and headed off toward her room.

Turning on some music, she went into the en suite and started the water running, adding her favorite bath oil, smiling as the bubbles began to form while the water filled the tub.  Satisfied she had things just as she liked them, she moved back into her bedroom, stripping as she went.  Hearing her mobile ring, she sighed and grabbed her robe from the foot of her bed, wrapping herself in it as she went back to the sitting room to see who was disturbing her now.

Picking the offending gadget up, she smiled then answered.  “Hello, Darling.  Why are you calling?  Shouldn’t you be too busy with Mary to worry about your mother?”  Isobel smiled as she listened to her son.  Making her way back to the en suite, she turned the water off.  “Oh Darling, thank you for thinking of me, but I’m fine.  I have a bit of a headache and am going to have a soak in a warm bath then turn in early.  You go on back to Mary before she grows cross with me for taking your attention away from her.  I’ll see you for New Year’s.”

Ending the call with her customary farewell to her son, Isobel put the mobile down on the side of the tub then dropped her robe and carefully stepped into the welcoming warmth of the bubble filled water.  Sinking down with a sigh, she positioned the pillow behind her in just the right spot then let her head fall back.  “Now...what are you going to do with yourself when you repeat this day again in the morning?”

A shopping spree and makeover were the first ideas.

Yes, those would do nicely.


	5. Chapter 5

December 24th – day five

 

Isobel had discovered that by staying awake and watching the clock rewind itself, she could do things before she fell.  Stretching as she got out of bed, she smiled as she thought of the things she was going to do today.  “And maybe I’ll even try to escape the fall,” she told herself, wondering if that event could be changed…suspecting it couldn’t.

Thinking about the fall made her wonder once again just who Igor was.  She’d been working at the hospital for years and not once had she heard of anyone on staff named Igor.  When she asked Elsie, she always received the same answer, “Never mind.”  But why?  Why never mind?  Why not just tell her who the man was?

Stepping into the shower, she sighed as the warm water rained down over her skin.  “I’ll just have to find the answer for myself,” she decided as she reached for her shampoo.  Elsie should know by now that not answering her friend’s questions would only lead to said friend snooping about and finding the truth out for herself. 

Hurrying through the rest of her shower, Isobel rinsed the rest of the suds away then turned the water off and reached for her towel.  First things first.

Makeover and shopping.

 

~*~

 

“Are you sure, Ma’am?  This is powerful car.”

Isobel scowled at the young man.  “I’m not as fragile as you seem to think I am, young man.  Now.  Do you want the sale or not?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Isobel nodded curtly then followed the man to fill out the paperwork for her new purchase.  It would be odd to not have to take a taxi everywhere she went, but it would be nice for a change.  And the speed.  She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her lips.

She’d always loved a fast car.

Reggie’d had one when they first met and oh the trouble they got into in that car.  She blushed as she thought about getting caught with steamed up windows.  Thankfully that had happened after she and Reg were married so she didn’t have to answer to her parents.  They’d had fun with that car for the first few years of their marriage and then she’d learned she was pregnant and the fast car was traded in for a more sensible family car.  She and Reg had planned to get another fast car for the years of their empty nest, but that hadn’t happened.  He’d been taken from her before their nest was empty, leaving her alone to finish raising the son he’d been so very proud of.

Shaking herself out of her melancholy thoughts, Isobel signed where she was instructed to then took the keys.  “Thank you.”  She could hear the young man snickering behind her back, but she chose to ignore it…she’d show him when she left just how well she could handle the car.  Pipsqueak.

Running her hand over the sleek red paint of the car, Isobel smiled then opened the door and settled herself behind the wheel.  Oh yes.  She could handle this car with ease and enjoy every second of it.

She started the engine, fastened her seatbelt then took off, wishing she could see the look on the young salesman’s face as she left the parking lot.

 

~*~

 

“Isobel, darling.”  Carlos called out when Isobel walked into the salon.  “What brings you in early?”

“I want a makeover, Carlos, love.”

“But Darling…you’re gorgeous.”

“Flatterer.”  Isobel shook her head at him as she sat down in his chair.  “Something daring.”

Carlos fingered her soft hair.  “Oh but…don’t make me cut it off, Darling.”

“You do what you want with it as long as you do something different.”

Carlos bit his lip as he studied her.  “Isobel, what’s going on?  I’ve known you for too many years not to know when something is up.”

“I just woke up and realized I was in a rut.  That’s all.”  _And she wasn’t lying with that…she was in a rut…a rut of a day repeating itself over and over again._

“I’ll give it a bit of a new shape and a new color, but I’m not cutting it all off.  I refuse to do that.”  Fingering her hair again, Carlos sighed, “It’s the softest hair I’ve ever worked with and it’s gorgeous on you long.  Do you want Guin to do a facial?  Madeline to do a mani and pedi?”

“The works.”

“Fancy man?”

Isobel laughed and shook her head.  “There’s a young man that’s just started working in the office that seems interested in me, but you know that’s not my cup of tea.”

Leaning over, Carlos whispered in her ear, “Maybe it should be.”

“Carlos!”

“Young men can be fabulous lovers, Darling.”

“Behave and get busy.  I have to go to work at some point today.”

“Fine.  Fine.  Guin!  Madeline!  Get your arses over here.  Our Isobel is here for the works today!”

 

~*~

 

Two hours later, Isobel was walking into a dress shop she’d passed by so many times and stood staring at the dresses in the window, wishing she had the nerve to wear one.  Well, today…she had the nerve.  If she made a fool of herself, what did it matter?  No one would remember it.

“Hello, Ma’am, may I help you?”

“Yes.”  Isobel smiled at the young woman.  “I’ve come to try on the dress in the window.  I have a party to attend and that dress will do nicely if it works with my figure.”

“I’m Liz and I think that dress will be beautiful on you.  Let me get it out of the window.”

“You mean it’s the last one you have?”

“Oh no, Ma’am.  It’s the only one.  All of our dresses are one of a kind.”

“Oh my.”  Isobel breathed.  “Since that’s the case, go ahead and pick out a few other things you think would work for me.”

Liz smiled.  “Oh yes, Ma’am.  That will be wonderful.  It’s been so slow today and it isn’t often I get a customer who will let me do such as that.”

“Well today’s your lucky day.  Now, dressing room?”

“Right this way.”

 

~*~

 

When Isobel walked into work, she was met with stares.  She wasn’t sure if it was her hair, makeup, or the fact that she was showing off her legs in a skirt…something she hadn’t worn for years.  Everyone was used to her wearing trousers.  Maybe just maybe she’d take Carlos’ advice and take the young Mr. Atkins up on his flirtations.

It would be better than spending an evening listening to Dickie drone on about what he thought he knew about the medical field.  And she definitely didn’t want to find out what he’d do once he saw her in her new dress.  She’d seen the way he’d looked at her before in the simple dresses she’d worn, this one…she shivered.  Ugh.  That was not what she wanted.  The man was nice enough, but not her type.

_“No, another Richard is your type,”_ her inner voice taunted.

Slamming her things down on her desk, she flopped into her chair.  Well there goes the fun.  Now her own mind was bringing up Richard.  Why couldn’t she escape being reminded of the man?  Wasn’t it enough that she’d lost one of her best friends besides Elsie?  Did she constantly have to be reminded of it?

“Isobel?”  Charles asked as he paused outside her office.

Isobel couldn’t help but laugh at the look on the man’s face.  “Close your mouth, Charles, it’s me.” 

“My word.  You’ve changed your look.  No wonder there’s so much buzz about the office.  You’ve caused quite a stir, Lady.”

“Good stir?”

Charles smiled.  “You know that I think my wife is the most beautiful woman in the world, but as her best friend, you come a close second.”

Isobel winked at him.  “I’ll take it.  Now go on before you cause another kind of stir standing and staring in my door.  Oh…Charles?”

“Yes?”

“Who’s Igor?”

“Igor?  You mean Igor Kuragin?”

“If he’s the only Igor we have around here.”  She nodded.

“He doesn’t work here.  He was merely visiting Elsie.”

“Oh.  Do you know where I can find him?”

“He’s here today.  He’s on the fifth floor.”

“So he’s a patient?”

“He comes in two days a week.  Usually it’s Monday and Thursday, but because of Christmas, he’s here a day early.”

“Thank you, Charles.”

Charles tipped his head and smiled.  “You’re welcome.  Now I must be going.  I’m going to be late for my meeting if I don’t.”

Isobel nodded and watched the man leave.  She had what she needed to go and learn who Igor was but that would have to wait for tomorrow.  She had work to do and it was growing close to the time for her fall.

She’d nearly convinced herself to go and find young Mr. Atkins and take him to the ball with her.  Or maybe they’d crash a party somewhere else.

Who knows what she’d do with her evening this time…


	6. Chapter 6

December 24th – day six

 

Isobel decided to skip buying the car today, but not the makeover or the new clothes.  She enjoyed that too much and she had plans for that dress again.  She blushed when she thought of what she’d gotten up to…she paused then frowned.  “Was it last night?  Or…how does one phrase that?”  She shrugged and gave up.  She’d go with last night no matter how many times she repeated the day.  By her count this was the sixth time she’d repeated Christmas Eve and it showed no sign of ending the repetition any time soon.

Deciding against fixing her hair, knowing that she was going straight to the salon and Carlos, she took her time enjoying her tea and the English fry up she decided to have for breakfast.  It wouldn’t have time to go to her waist, hips, or…anywhere else for that matter since come midnight it would be the start of this day once again.

Humming her pleasure as the fried goodness filled her taste buds, she wondered why she’d given this up.  Then she laughed at herself.  “Heartburn, you fool,” she murmured.  She’d pay for this bit of indulgence, but well…it would be worth it.  Just as buying the fancy fast car had been worth it yesterday.  She could still feel the wind through her hair and laughed at the remembrance of the odd looks she got from people who thought she was off her rocker for driving about in the cold with the windows down. 

Today, after the makeover and bit of shopping, she intended to find Igor and learn just exactly who he was and what it was about the man that made Elsie not want to talk about him.

Taking the dishes to the sink, she started to wash them then shrugged.  Why wash them when they’d magically disappear at midnight?  No sense wasting her time.  She wasn’t going to waste time on making up her face, either.  Moving through the house to the en suite, she cleaned her teeth, tugged her hair up then went back to her bedroom and dressed in comfortable clothes.

She had an odd feeling about Igor Kuragin. 

Did he know what was going on?

Was that why Elsie always said, never mind?

 

~*~

 

Shaking her head at the looks she was receiving as she walked through the building, Isobel felt the same thrill she’d felt yesterday.  This sort of feeling never got old, she decided.  Dropping her things on her desk, she locked her handbag up in the desk drawer then headed out in her search.

Sighing when she heard her name, she turned and tried to smile at the man.  “Richard,” she said his name as a breathy whisper.

“I’m sorry to bother you.  I know I’m the last person you want to see, but we need to talk.”

“Why?  Haven’t we talked it to death?”

“No, we haven’t.  That’s the problem.”  Richard looked down at his shoes, his hands stuffed in his pockets.  “I know I fouled things up when I proposed so horribly, but…” he looked back up at her.  “Just because I bungled it up, doesn’t mean I wasn’t sincere.”

“You were lonely.”

“Yes.  And I’m lonelier now.  That still isn’t why I tried to propose.”

“Richard, you knew how I felt.  Why would you propose?”

“I _thought_ I knew how you felt.  I _thought_ you loved me.  Was I wrong?”

“Yes.”  Isobel answered.  “You were a friend, Richard.  I thought I’d made myself clear that I had no desire to ever marry again.  I loved Reg, I feel no need to replace him.”

“Damn it all, Isobel!”  Richard hissed then lowered his voice.  “I could never, and would never try to, replace your late husband.  What sort of fool do you take me for?”  Sighing, he shook his head.  “So that’s it then?  Our friendship is gone because I love you and you obviously _can’t_ love me.”

“Richard!  That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked then turned and walked away.

Watching him as he disappeared down the hallway, Isobel felt something inside break.  His parting words hurt far more than they should have if they weren’t true.

Was she in love with him?

Shaking her head, she refused to consider that as the truth.

She was _not_ in love with the man.

Clearing her throat, she turned and continued on her way to the lifts.  She was going to find Igor today if it took her all day.

 

~*~

 

“Edna, have you seen a man named Igor Kuragin?”

“Igor?  Yes.  He’s just down there.”  Edna pointed.

“Thank you.”  Isobel smiled at the woman then walked in the direction she’d been told she could find Igor.

She was surprised to find the man sitting and reading to a woman who looked to be comatose.  Hadn’t Charles said the man was a patient?

“No,” she mumbled as she remembered the conversation.  She’d asked if Igor was a patient but Charles had never said that he was.  What was it about this man that kept her friends from telling her the truth?

Standing and listening to him for a few minutes, Isobel found herself falling under the spell his voice was weaving with each word of the Christmas story he read.  She’d never especially liked Scrooge and the tale of his ghostly visitors, but maybe it was because she’d never heard anyone with a voice like Igor’s reading the story.

Igor looked up, surprised to find someone watching him.  Turning back to the book, he finished the chapter he was on, then marked his place.  “I’ll be back later to finish the story.  Mustn’t keep you waiting until after Christmas to find out how the story ends.”

Isobel backed up into the hall and smiled at him when he came out to meet her.  “That was lovely.  Is she your wife?”

Igor shook his head.  “No.  My wife no longer lives.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”  Isobel studied the man.  “You’re Russian.”

“Yes.  The last of a long line of Russian princes.”

“Prince?  But…”

“But what am I doing here?”

“Well, yes.”

“The Russian Revolution sent my people in many different directions.  My family came here.  Some of them were able to return years later.  That’s where my father met my mother, where I was born, but it was never the same and once I married, we came back here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to be.  It is what life has handed me.”

“I’m still sorry.  It would be hard to leave the country you loved.”

“It was, but that’s in the past now.”

“My name is Isobel by the way.”

“I know who you are.”

“You do?” she asked, startled.

“Would you like to go for tea?”

“I would like that, yes.  I have so many questions.”

Igor smiled as he held out his arm.  “I’m sure you do.”

Looking up at him as she slid her arm through his, Isobel studied the man.  “You know, don’t you?”

Winking at her, Igor gave her a look.  “Know what?”

 

~*~

 

Isobel wiped at her eyes as she sat staring at the telly in her sitting room.  The story of a lost love, Igor’s lost love, still broke her heart.  She never had gotten him to tell her how he knew who she was, though she supposed he’d probably seen her about the hospital or heard her name being mentioned amongst the staff.  The woman he loved, the woman he’d lost, sounded like someone she knew, but that couldn’t possibly be true.  How would she know someone he’d known in Russia?  She’d never been to Russia.  The woman clearly wasn’t his wife.  He’d not spoken of his wife with such reverence and adoration as he had the woman he’d loved and lost.

“Now I have to find out who she is.  Maybe I can make it right somehow.”

Tonight, she was going to sit and contemplate things.

_“You mean like the things Richard said to us?”_ her inner voice poked at her making her sigh as her head fell back on the sofa cushion behind her.

“No.”

_“Isn’t that being foolish?”_

“Not at all.”  She huffed and threw up her hands.  “Oh bloody hell!  I’m not going to sit here and argue with myself!”  Getting up she rushed into her bedroom, deciding that she was going to do what she’d planned to do in the first place.

She was going to a party, somewhere, and showing off the fancy new dress she’d bought. 

She may be past it in some people’s minds, but she’d proved today that she could still turn heads.

And turning a few heads was just what she needed to take her mind off a man whose head she’d turned…but hadn’t wanted to.


	7. Chapter 7

December 24th – day seven

 

The party dress was in her closet, the other new clothes laid out on her bed, the new shoes and lingerie scattered here and there.  Isobel stared at all the purchases and laughed at the fact that only the dress was the same as the other times she’d gone shopping.

“And I didn’t realize it until now,” she murmured to herself.  She’d decided that she wasn’t going in to work until just before time for her fall which gave her plenty of time to just do whatever she took a notion to.

And it kept her from repeating yesterday’s turn of events.

Bumping into Richard had hurt her far more than it should have.  They’d been friends, close friends at that, and when he’d ruined things with his bumbling proposal, she’d mourned the lose of that friendship.  But…this hurt was different than that had been.

Why?

Why did just hearing his name cause a sadness to sweep over her?

Seeing him and hearing his voice had made her feel physically ill.

_“You know why,”_ her inner voice interrupted her thoughts.

“No.  I don’t,” she denied.

_“Fool you are then because **I** know.  We’re…”_

“Stop!” she shouted then rolled her eyes over the fact that she was essentially yelling at herself.  “Enough of this!  I have things to do.”

And finding Igor was part of those things.

She hoped to learn more about the woman he loved.

Isobel wanted to help the sweet man find his love but she had to know the woman’s name first.

 

~*~

 

Isobel smiled as she slipped into the room where Igor was reading to the patient she now knew as Lilly.  The woman had been in a coma for a year and wasn’t expected to ever wake up, but Igor had kept on reading to her, insisting that she could hear him whether she was awake or not.  What no one else knew, but Isobel had learned, was that Lilly had been a young woman when Igor and his wife had come back to England from Russia.  She’d tried to befriend Igor’s wife, who would have nothing of it, but she’d managed to befriend Igor and had done whatever she could to help them settle.  Isobel had also managed to learn Igor’s wife’s name.  Irina.  Igor and Irina.  Funny how the arranged marriage, for he’d told her that little bit yesterday, had also managed an alliteration of the couple’s names.  Igor probably wouldn’t find that as amusing as she did.

Holding his gaze when he looked up at her, Isobel nodded to the book, telling him to finish the chapter he was currently reading.  They could talk afterward.  No sense depriving Lilly of the rest of the chapter.  Like Igor, Isobel herself felt that comatose patients could hear people talking to them, so she wouldn’t begrudge the time it took for Igor to finish this chapter.

Igor turned back to the book and continued where he’d left off.  He knew who his visitor was.  He also knew what she wanted.  What he didn’t know was…was he ready to tell her who his lost love was?  He had told Isobel he knew who she was when this day had happened twenty four hours earlier, but what he hadn’t told her was that part of the, “I know who you are…” was that he knew she was his lost love’s cousin.  What would his Violet think if he were to tell her cousin who she was?  He’d already told her about their affair and what had happened, how they’d nearly ran away together, but what would the woman do with the knowledge of just who the lost love was?  He knew from the person that had told him who Isobel was that she and Violet hadn’t always gotten on.  Did they get along now?  That he didn’t know and it was what made him wonder if he should give Isobel what she wanted.

Finishing the chapter, he marked his place and closed the book then stood and placed it on the small table by the bed.  “Lilly, I’ll return later to read another chapter.  I don’t want to leave you wondering what happens at the end until I return next week.” 

Isobel stood and made her way out into the hall as Igor spoke to Lilly, deciding what he said to the woman was none of her business.  Watching how he caressed a strand of white hair from Lilly’s cheek, she marveled that his wife had never loved him or even liked him.  She’d seen nothing but kindness in the man from the moment she met him.

“Hello, Mrs. Crawley.”

Isobel’s eyebrow arched at the greeting.  “So I was right.  You do know.”

Igor nodded and held out his arm.  “I do, but here is not the place to discuss such things.”

Taking his arm, Isobel followed beside him, wondering where he would take her today.  “Are we going to the same place as the last time we talked?”

“We are.  It’s the most quiet place here and the perfect place to discuss things.”

“Like who your lost love is?”

Igor looked down at her as they waited for the lift.  “I find that I’m at an impasse.  One part of me says to give you her name.  Another part is saying it isn’t wise.”

“Oh?”  Isobel asked, her surprise evident in her voice.  Moving onto the lift with him, she waited until the doors had closed then looked up at him again.  “Is she someone I know?”

Igor merely hummed and patted her hand.  “I haven’t made up my mind if I’m going to side with telling you or keeping her name a secret.”

Isobel huffed.  “That isn’t fair, now is it?”

Igor laughed and winked at her when she snarled up at him.  “I don’t see why it isn’t.”

“Of course you don’t.  You know the answer!”

Igor’s laughter rang out into the hall as the lift doors opened.  “Come along.  Let’s go and get ourselves some tea.”

“Are you really going to keep me in the dark?”

“We shall see.”

“Oh!” she huffed and shook her head.  Infuriating man!

 

~*~

 

Laughing as she twirled about the ballroom, Isobel smiled at her partner.  She’d given in and come with Dickie to the ball again, though she hadn’t spent much time dancing with him.  He was currently dancing with Prudence Shackleton.  “Dear Tom.  I want to thank you for rescuing me.”

Tom Branson grinned at the mother of his best friend and brother-in-law.  “Sybil would have had my head if I hadn’t.  She knows that you aren’t interested in the baron.”

“I’ve always said she was a smart young woman.”

Tom laughed and twirled Isobel about again.  “Why did you come with him?  The man is a bore.  And his sons…” he stopped and scowled.

Isobel patted Tom’s shoulder.  “His sons are terrible.  And yes, Dickie is a bore, but I didn’t want to come by myself and I needed to be here.  There’s something I must do.”

“Oh?”  Tom studied her.  “What are you up to?”

Isobel winked at him.  “You’ll see.”

“Now I see where Matthew gets it.”

“Gets what?”

“He’s constantly telling me, “You’ll see,” and making me wait.”

Isobel laughed, clapping as the dance ended.  Kissing Tom’s cheek, she nudged him.  “Thank you.  Go on back to Sybil and give her a kiss for me for being so sweet as to share you.”

“You know that I would have regardless of Sybil’s nudging.  Yes?”

“I do, sweet boy.”

“Well, I’m hardly a boy.”

“To me you are.  Go on now.”  Isobel nudged him again and watched him as he made his way back to his wife.  They made a beautiful couple and she was happy for them, though she knew young Tom was still trying to find his place within the family.  Her Matthew had taken to the young man and they’d been instant friends, which had helped Tom immensely.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she turned and worked her way through the dancers to where she knew Violet was sitting.

Violet studied her cousin as she sat across from her.  “What are you up to?”

“Me?  Up to something?”

“Don’t play games you can’t win.  Now what are you up to?”

“I’ve met a very sweet man at the hospital.  He comes in to read to one of the comatose patients.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“Because I thought you might enjoy his story.”  Isobel couldn’t keep the gleam from her eyes.  “You see, his wife died a year ago and since then he’s been looking for his lost love.  Seems they met years ago in Russia and began an affair.  They nearly ran away together, but his wife stopped them.  He’s missed the lost love all these years and he would like to see her, to know if she still loves him…if she’s missed him as he’s missed her.”  Isobel watched Violet’s face, saw the recognition flare in her eyes then die as she closed herself off.

“Why would I enjoy a story of a man having an affair?”

“Come now, Cousin.  You know that I know who the woman is.”  Lowering her voice, Isobel reached across the table and laid her hand over Violet’s.  “I don’t think any less of you, Violet.  I think the story is sad and beautiful and I want to give it a happy ending.  He loves you.  Won’t you give him a chance?  He knew who I was, I didn’t tell him.  He’s not looking for you anymore, he knows that you’re here.  He just doesn’t know exactly where you live or if you’ll accept him.  If I set it up, will you meet him?  Will you give him a chance?”  Isobel waited a moment then whispered, “Violet…did Patrick not love you?”

Violet sighed.  Her cousin was far too perceptive for her liking, but it was what it was.  The woman knew the story, so why continue denying it?  “I can’t, Isobel.  My family know nothing of my affair.  My marriage to Patrick was arranged.  He loved me once, I think, but…it was nothing like Igor’s love.”

“I promise no one will learn anything from me.  If I plan an outing for the two of you, I’ll say I’ve convinced you to go visit a charity I’m thinking of donating to.  No one will question it since they’ve all noticed we’re getting on better.  Please?  Won’t you consider it?”

“Are you doing this so that I won’t try…” Violet started, stopping when Isobel squeezed her hand and shook her head.

“No.  This has nothing to do with me.  I just simply feel that every woman should know the kind of love I had with Reginald and I see that for you in Igor.  You’re both free.  And I don’t care what your family will think.  Who needs to know the complete truth outside of the three of us anyway?”

Violet held her cousin’s gaze.  “You want that for me, but you won’t accept it for yourself.”  She gave Isobel a look but refrained from saying Richard’s name.  “Fine.  Set up the meeting, but no one, not even my maid, must know.”

“Why not your maid?”

Violet looked down and caressed the handle of her cane with a finger.  “Because my maid was the one that gave Igor and I away.”

“Oh.”  Isobel smiled when Violet looked back up at her.  “I promise.  No one but the three of us.”


	8. Chapter 8

December 24th – day eight

 

“Isobel, we need to talk.” 

Isobel sighed.  How had he found her here?  “I have no time, Richard.  Besides, there is nothing to talk about.”

“I believe there is.  I promise I won’t propose again.  I know you don’t love me…that you _can’t_ love me.  I’ve resigned myself to that, but couldn’t you find it within yourself to sit with me and let me talk?  Give me a chance to be your friend again?  That’s all I’m asking, Isobel.  That’s all.”

“Fine.  But not now.  I’m late for an appointment.  I’ll meet you for lunch if that will work with your schedule.”

“I’m free today.  It’s Christmas Eve.”

“So it is.”  Isobel nodded.  “One then?”

“I’ll meet you at the little pub around the corner from the hospital.”

“Alright.” Isobel agreed then turned and rushed into the building.

Richard stared after her, his heart aching.  He loved her, why couldn’t she see?  Why couldn’t she love him?  Had she closed herself off so tightly that what he’d said was true?  She couldn’t love?  He thought that might make him sadder than not having her in his life in some capacity.  If he was always to be just her friend, it was far better than her completely ignoring him.

How had he been so wrong?  Maybe he should have talked to Elsie.  She would have known.  She could have possibly kept him from making a fool of himself and breaking his own heart.

“But you were so sure,” he muttered to himself as he turned and walked back to where he’d parked.  “So sure that you cost yourself a very dear friend.”

 

~*~

 

“Charlie?”

“What is it?”  Charles asked as he looked up at his wife, hearing something in her voice.

“Has Richard talked to you?”

“Talked to me?”

“Yes.  You know what I mean.”

Pushing back from his desk, Charles held out his hand.  “Come here, love.”

Smiling as she walked around and took his hand, she sighed as he settled her on his lap.  “Something’s happened, Charlie.  Richard is so sad.  I haven’t seen him this sad since…”

“Since Isobel broke his heart.”

Elsie nodded.  “I just don’t understand, Charlie.  She’s the one that saw our love and told me I should nudge you along so I didn’t lose you.  Why can’t she see she’s in love with Richard?”

“I don’t know, love.  I knew I was in love with you, never denied it to myself, but I was too afraid to do anything because I wasn’t sure about you.  Then you started giving me hints and letting me see that you loved me and it gave me courage.  Maybe Richard should have done what you did.  Gently nudged her along.”

“But that only worked with you because you never denied to yourself that you loved me.  Isobel is so afraid of being hurt…”

“That she hurt herself far more than loving Richard would have.”  Charles finished for her.

“Oh Charlie.  I feel so badly for them.”

“I know you do, love.  Have you tried talking to Isobel?”

“She cuts me off every time I start to say Richard.”

“Maybe I should have a talk with her.”

“Charlie, are you sure?”

“Of course I am.”  Charles caressed Elsie’s cheek.  “Elsie, I wouldn’t have you or our beautiful children if Isobel hadn’t stepped in.  If she’s truly in love with Richard, and we both have seen it and know it to be true, then I want to try and help her like she helped us.  Everyone deserves to be loved, no matter if it’s the second time round.”

Elsie sighed as she curled her fingers around his neck.  “My dear Charlie.  I love you,” she whispered then tugged his head down, pressing her lips to his.

Charles hummed into the kiss then pulled back and smiled down at her.  “And I’m a very lucky man for it.”  Tucking a wayward tendril of hair away from her face, he traced the shell of her ear with a gentle fingertip.  “We’ll find a way to help them, love…even if we have to lock them in a room together and not let them out until they talk.”

 

~*~

 

“I’ve told Violet that I know about you.  She’s agreed to meet you.  Now all I need is where.”  Isobel smiled at Igor as he sat staring at her.  “What?  You didn’t think I could do it?”

“I didn’t think Violet would agree.”

Isobel shrugged.  “I can be very persuasive.  Besides, how could she deny anything when I told her your story…a story I couldn’t possibly have known without talking to you.”

“But you said something that made her give in.  I know my Violet.  She would worry about her family.”

“She’s still worried about the family finding out, but for now, she’s willing to meet you.”  Squeezing his hand, Isobel leaned closer so he could hear her as she lowered her voice, “She still loves you, Igor.  When you meet, don’t give her a chance to talk herself out of being with you.  I want her to be happy and I think you can do that for her.”

“If you want her to be happy, why don’t you want that for yourself?”

“What?”

“Isobel, I know about you, remember?”

“Yes, well…”

“No.  Don’t do that.  Think, Isobel.  Think about why you keep repeating this day.  Think about the one person that keeps being brought up in nearly every conversation you’ve had since this started.  There’s a reason for that, Isobel.  I won’t say the name, you’ll shut me off if I do.  But remember the things you said to Elsie all those years ago when you told her to gently nudge Charles along.  Remember the things you said to Violet.  Don’t they also apply to you?”

“Igor, you don’t…”

“Don’t I?  You’ve had this man that loves you right here with you all this time, and because you’re afraid of being hurt again if something happens to him, you refuse to admit that you love him.  And you _do_ love him, Isobel.  I’ve loved Violet all these years and couldn’t be with her.  I lost her and never thought I would see her again or have the chance to be with her again.  Now I have that chance and I’m not going to waste it.  You shouldn’t, either.”

 

~*~

 

“I’m sorry, Isobel.”  Richard whispered over a cup of tea, a bit of Scotch added for more than just the warmth it brought.  “I was an idiot to think I knew you so well as to think that you felt the same way as I did.  I shouldn’t have had all that Scotch, it made me lose my head and say things I shouldn’t have.  I didn’t think things through or I would have kept my thoughts and feelings to myself.”  He sighed then took another sip of his tea.  “I knew better.  I’d tried love once before and I was wrong then.  I’m not sure what made me think this time would be different.  Maybe it was because I was fool enough to think that because we were friends that shared practically everything, well…that it would be different this time.  Shows how lousy I am at reading people.  Good thing I’m not a psychotherapist.  I’d be a poor one.”

“Richard…” Isobel started, stopping when he looked up at her with his piercing eyes, their color more grey than blue in his sadness.

“What, Isobel?  You’re going to tell me I’m wrong?  I’m not a fool?  That it’s none of those things but you still don’t love me?  I told you that I understand that you can’t love me.  I simply want to know if we can at least speak to each other.  Our not speaking to each other is making things uncomfortable for our mutual friends.  Can’t we at least try to be cordial so that our friends don’t have to watch their words when they’re around us?”

Isobel wasn’t sure she could speak.  He’d broken her heart with the defeat she’d seen in his eyes.  Had she done this to him?  Had her need to protect herself from loving again hurt a man who had been nothing but caring and wonderful to her?

_“Yes.  You did this.  Fix it,”_ her inner voice whispered sounding strangely like Igor.

The question was…how?


	9. Chapter 9

December 24th – day nine

 

Isobel had given up doing anything today.  She just simply sat and stared at the telly, though it was nothing more than a blank screen.  She thought she’d turned it on to watch a movie at some point in the night, but maybe she’d only imagined it.  Her thoughts had been particularly scrambled since her talk with Igor.

She still denied that she was in love with Richard, that was preposterous, but she would admit that she’d hurt him.  Maybe she’d call him and meet him somewhere and let him have his say and give him what he wanted.  He’d simply asked for them to be friends again, though they both knew they would never be the kind of friends they’d once been.  They’d be more like acquaintances, but at least their mutual friends wouldn’t have to feel awkward around them anymore.

The phone ringing brought her out of her thoughts and she frowned, wondering who it was.

“Hello?” she answered, startled to hear Charles’ voice on the other side.  “Has something happened?  Everything alright with Elsie?  At work?”  Listening to him answer her questions, she frowned when he said he wanted to talk to her.  “But you said there was nothing wrong,” she reminded.  Shrugging when he responded, “So I did,” but said nothing more, she gave in.  “Fine then.  Give me an hour and I’ll be there.”  Ending the call, she placed the phone back in its cradle and sat frowning at it.

“What in the world does Charles want to talk to me about?” she asked the empty room, pondering on this newest thing that hadn’t happened in any of the other times she’d repeated this day.  She shook her head.  Whatever it was, she’d find out soon enough if she ever got up and got herself ready.  Charles wouldn’t like it if she was late.

 

~*~

 

“Isobel, thank you for coming without asking too many questions.”

“Well I’m asking now.  What do you want to talk to me about?”

“Tea?”  Charles asked as he guided her to the sofa on the far wall of his office.

Isobel frowned as she sat down.  “Stop avoiding my question, Charles.”

“I’m not avoiding it.  I’m merely being a courteous host.”

“Avoiding.”  Isobel mumbled and took the cup of tea he handed her, fixed exactly how she liked it.

“Fine then.  I’ll get right to the point.  I’m worried about you.”

“Worried about me?  Whatever for?”

Charles sighed as he sat down behind his desk.  It was less personal that Elsie had told him to be, but it was the only way he saw to talk to her without getting carried away with himself.

“Charles.”  Isobel said his name, studying him as he sat and stared down into his tea.

“Why did you tell Elsie to nudge me along?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I did, but I don’t understand why you’re asking me that.”

Charles looked up at her, his dark eyes kind and concerned.  “Because you aren’t happy.  You haven’t been happy since you lost your friendship with Richard.”  He held up his hand when he noticed her opening her mouth to protest.  “Before you tell me I don’t know what happened, I do.  Richard is my friend, just as you are.  I’m the one he came to when you broke his heart.”  Softening his look and his voice, Charles sighed, “And you did break it, Isobel.  I’m not saying Richard didn’t make mistakes, he did, but the way you just simply cut him off.  The way you reacted…Isobel, why?  And what good did it do you?  You’ve been miserable ever since.  So again…why did you tell Elsie to nudge me along?”

Isobel swallowed down the lump in her throat.  “Because she loved you and I could see that you loved her.  I knew you, though, knew you’d be too unsure of her feelings.  You didn’t know it, still don’t…well…I guess you will now.”  She shook her head to stop the rambling circles her speech had suddenly taken.  “Anyway.  I knew about Alice.”

Charles held her gaze.  “I know,” he whispered then continued.  “You knew about Alice.  You knew the hurt I suffered when I learned that she was cheating on me with Grigg.”

“I did, but Charles…” she started to argue, stopping when he shook his head.

“Knowing that I’d been that kind of hurt, why did you push Elsie toward me?  Surely you knew she could be hurt.  How did you know that I wouldn’t…do what you did?  How did you know I could love again?”

Isobel closed her eyes, the tears she’d refused to shed slowly slipping from beneath her lashes.  “Oh god, Charles.  What have I done?”

Moving around his desk, Charles knelt down and clasped her hands in his, smiling up at her with kindness.  “You know what you’ve done.  You know how to fix it.”  Kissing her forehead, he stood up then reached into his pocket and handed her his handkerchief.  “Here.  Wipe those tears.  You don’t want red, puffy eyes for the party tonight.”

Wiping her eyes, Isobel stood up and wrapped her arms around her friend.  “Thank you.  And thank Elsie for sending you.”

“I need no thanks.  Neither does Elsie.  And she didn’t send me.  I volunteered.”  He smiled at her shock.  “You’re my friend, Isobel.  I owe you so much for helping me gain the love of my life and the wonderful family I have today.  Go on now.  Go home and rest a bit.  You have a party to go to tonight.”

“But Charles…Richard won’t be there if he’s heard I’ll be going with Dickie.”

“Who says you’ll be going with Dickie?  Isn’t there a young man around here that’s hung up on you?”  Charles winked at her, chuckling when she blushed.

Isobel stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek.  “You’re an amazing man, Charles Carson.  Elsie’s a lucky woman.”

“No.  I’m the lucky one.”

 

~*~

 

Isobel took a deep breath as she smoothed the dress down over her hips.  She shouldn’t be nervous about wearing this dress, she’d worn it several times already and knew the reaction it would get.

_“Yes, but this time Richard will see you.”_

Isobel sighed.  That inner voice was sounding more and more like Igor.  She’d gone to see him after she’d left Charles’ office and he’d held her as she cried again over what she’d done to Richard.  The more she talked with Igor, the more he reminded her of her father.

“Papa,” she whispered.  Her mother had never complained that her husband doted on their daughter, she’d let him, knowing how very much it meant to the man to have a child of his own…a daughter especially.  She’d been named for the sister her father had lost when they both were young, the sister her father had loved and grieved for all of his life.  Even after her brothers had come along, her father had still doted on her…still took time to spend with just her.

“What would he think of the mess I’ve made?” she wondered as she took one last look at herself in the mirror.  Hearing the doorbell, she hurriedly shoved her feet into her shoes, grabbed her wrap, and clutch then rushed out of the bedroom, thankful she didn’t have stairs to contend with. 

Smiling at the handsome man she found waiting when she opened the door, she grinned when he kissed her cheek.  “I’m very glad you agreed to be my escort.”

“Sybil was only too happy to share me if it meant you were coming to the Ball.”  Tom whistled as he took her in.  “You’re beautiful.  There are going to be a lot of very jealous women tonight.”

“Oh go on with you.”  Isobel shook her head.  “The young women have nothing to worry about from me.”

Tom rolled his eyes.  “You never seem to know your own beauty,” he mumbled and held out his arm.  “Come along then.  Sybil will have my head if we’re late.”

Isobel laughed and gently squeezed his arm.  “She enjoys looking at that handsome face too much to do that.”

Tom laughed as he helped her into the car.  “Remember to tell _her_ that.”

Shaking her head, Isobel winked at him.  “You know she’ll not have your head.  Besides, I’m the reason you’re late.”

Tom grinned.  “Oh yeah.  You are.”

 

~*~

 

Isobel shook her head at the looks she was getting as she entered the ballroom.  The men’s eyes were half popping out of their heads and the women were scowling…well, the older women anyway.  The young women weren’t sure what to think so their faces were mostly blank.

Then there was Violet.

The scowl on her face was the fiercest one Isobel had seen yet…even though she’d seen the woman scowl at her for the dress the last few times she’d worn it.

Oh well.

Let the old bat scowl.

And then Isobel turned and caught sight of Dickie.

Dear heaven above.

The man was half drooling.

All that did was cause shivers to go up and down Isobel’s spine.

_Ugh._

That was a new reaction.

_“Had he missed the full effect the first few times?”_ she wondered silently then shook it off.

Dickie was not the Richard she cared about.

“Who are you looking for?”  Tom whispered as he led her toward where Sybil was waiting.

“Dr. Clarkson.”

Looking at her with a raised eyebrow, Tom paused.  “Oh?”

“None of your business…for now.  I’ll explain it all later.”  Isobel answered and patted his arm.  Winking at him when he gave her a skeptical look, she nudged him toward Sybil.  “Go on.  She’s waiting and this time you can’t use me as an excuse.”

Tom chuckled then kissed her cheek.  “Good luck,” he whispered.

Isobel watched him as he walked the rest of the way to where Sybil waited.  Smiling at the way the couple greeted each other, she sighed then returned to her search.

Where was he?

“He isn’t here.”

Isobel started at the voice and turned to find her cousin staring at her.  “Who?”

Violet rolled her eyes.  “Don’t play the owl with me.  You know who.  The man you wore _that_ for,” she half snarled as she pointed at the dress.

“There’s nothing wrong with this dress.  I have the figure for it, so why not?”  Isobel scowled at the woman.  “And how do you know who I’m looking for?  I could be looking for Dickie.”

“The man you walked by and left near drooling in your wake?”  Violet scowled at her.  “Don’t play me for a fool.  Richard isn’t here.  Why would you expect him to be?”

Isobel did her best to keep her disappointment from showing.  “If you’ll excuse me.”

Violet reached out and clasped her cousin’s arm.  “You can’t run away.”

“I’m not running away.  I’m going home.  I came for one reason.  You’ve just informed me the reason isn’t here.”  Pinching the bridge of her nose, Isobel closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “I have something to tell you before I go.  Can we find a quiet corner?”

Violet studied the other woman, raising an eyebrow when Isobel opened her eyes and looked at her.  Opening her mouth to give a snarky reply, she closed it again at the look in Isobel’s eyes.  Turning and making her way to the table she’d been sitting at, she led the way.  She had an odd feeling about this.

Isobel sat at the table Violet indicated and barely waited for the other woman to sit down before she started.  “I met someone from your past.  Someone that’s been in love with you for years.  Someone who came back to this country hoping to catch glimpses of you, but was kept from it.  Someone who’s known where you were for the last several years but has been too afraid to confront you because they don’t know if you still feel the same.”

Violet sat staring at the younger woman.  “I don’t know…” she started, stopping when Isobel held up her hand.

“No.  Don’t do that.  You know who I’m talking about.  If you’ll agree to it, I’ll set up a meeting away from anyone that knows you so that it won’t get back to your family.  He really wants to see you.  Don’t be your usual stubborn self.  You’ve been pushing me to fix things with Richard, trying to get me to admit the way I really feel.  Don’t you think you should heed your own advice?”

Before Violet could say anything Isobel was walking away and disappearing in the crowd of partiers.

Something weird was going on with her cousin.

But what?


	10. Chapter 10

December 24th – day ten

 

Isobel hadn’t slept.  She’d been up all night and had watched her clock spin backwards to reset the day.  Her mind was too busy to let her rest.  Everything that she’d learned in the last nine Christmas Eves had led her to finally admit to herself what everyone had been telling her.

She was in love with Richard Clarkson.

And she was scared to death of it.

She’d been in love before.

She’d been happy and content.

Then it had all been ripped away from her along with a piece of her heart.

Matthew had been all that kept her from simply giving up.

People were always telling her they admired what a strong woman she was.

She hadn’t been strong then.

She’d been devastated.

The day she’d given her heart, body, and life to marriage, she’d been happier than she’d thought possible.  She knew the notion was old fashioned, but she’d been an old fashioned young woman at the time.

That hadn’t meant that she wasn’t an independent thinker, and doer.  Reg had made sure she understood he wanted a partner, not a house servant.  She’d laughed at him and slapped his chest then kissed him.  He’d made love to her then, but he hadn’t forgotten what he’d said.  And he’d never changed his mind.  She’d been his partner in everything, even his medical practice.  He’d once encouraged her to go on and become a doctor, but she hadn’t wanted to.  She’d been happy being a nurse, his nurse.

Then…

He was gone…

And she had to discover just who Isobel Crawley was without Reginald Crawley.

She’d never been Isobel Crawley by herself.

When she was by herself, she’d been Isobel Turnbull, the very outspoken daughter of Sir John Turnbull.  The very adored, and some would say, spoiled, daughter of the prestigious doctor.  Her father had been proud of her and had never forced her to do anything she hadn’t wanted to do.

Nursing had been her choice and hers alone.  Her father and mother had told her she could be and do anything she chose.

Her brother’s hadn’t exactly liked the fact that she was allowed as much freedom as she was, but they’d been spoiled by their mother, so all things had been equal as far as Isobel was concerned.

Then had come Reginald Crawley.

Her brothers hadn’t liked him from the moment they met him.

Being in line as an heir to a title did nothing to dissuade them from their dislike, either.

Isobel knew why they disliked the young doctor.  Her father had known, too, and he’d been ashamed of his sons’ attitudes.  He’d stood alongside her against their protests.  He’d happily given his permission when Reg had asked for Isobel’s hand, glad to have another doctor in the midst, especially one as promising as the young Mr. Crawley.  And that had angered her brothers even more.  They’d never welcomed Reg into the family, and she’d lost touch with them, but she hadn’t cared.  They’d never really been happy with a sister anyway, though if they had to have one, they didn’t see why she hadn’t been married off to a wealthy man who would bring more money into the family.

Turning her thoughts back to Richard, she shook her head.  Her oldest brother had passed several years before Reg, but the younger of the two was still living and still as distant in his relationship with his sister as he’d always been.  She might as well be an only child for all the good it did her to have a sibling.  He wouldn’t like Richard anymore than he’d liked Reg, but she didn’t care.  Her father would have liked Richard for some of the same reasons he’d always liked Reg.

And that was good enough for her.

“Now what am I going to do, Papa?” she muttered as she settled down on the sofa, resting her head on the throw pillow before pulling the blanket she’d wrapped around herself a little closer.

_“Sleep,”_ sounded from somewhere in her memories and she gave in, deciding that resting was good.  So long as she was awake in time to be in place for her fall.

“I’m going to have a permanent knot on my head…” she mumbled as she drifted off, hoping that she’d dream an answer to her question.

What was she going to do about Richard?

 

~*~

 

“Elsie, no.”  Richard shook his head.  “I have no desire to go to the Ball this year.”

“Why?  Because Izzy will be there?”

Richard frowned at his friend.  “No.  Because I simply don’t want to go.”

Elsie rolled her eyes.  “Ye’re a lousy liar, Richard Clarkson,” she let her natural brogue thicken as she looked at her fellow Scot and friend.  Slipping into the Gaelic, she told him what she thought he needed to hear…no, what she _knew_ he needed to hear but wouldn’t let anyone else say to him.  They’d known each other for far too long for her to hold back, it was part of what he’d always said he admired about her.

Richard looked down at his hands as Elsie talked.  If anyone else said the things she was saying, he’d have walked away or slugged them depending on who it was.  But it _was_ Elsie and so he sat and listened to what she was saying.

Elsie finished what she had to say and sat watching her friend.  He wouldn’t look at her, just kept staring at his hands.  Sighing, she stood up and shook her head.  “For all the good it did us to knock sense into Isobel’s head and now you go all stubborn Scot on me,” she muttered as she walked out of his office.  Grumbling as she walked down the hallway to the lifts, she wondered if she should call Isobel to let her know that she hadn’t gotten through to the man.

Then she changed her mind. 

Maybe locking Richard and Isobel in a room somewhere wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

 

~*~

 

Isobel started awake at the ringing of her phone.  Fumbling around as she tried to wake up, she found the object and frowned at the name on the screen.  Damned Dickie.  Ugh.

Why couldn’t this part of her repeated day change?

“Hello,” she sighed.  “Yes, sorry.  I’m afraid I was being lazy and had drifted to sleep.”  Listening to him, she found herself scowling at the sound of his voice.  Why had she never noticed that before?  She really didn’t like to hear the man talk.  Or maybe it was more to do with the fact that the man was more often than not talking about himself.  “I’m sorry, but I can’t.  Yes, I know what my cousin said, but I really can’t.  I’ve made other plans.  Why don’t you ask Prudence Shackleton?  She’s more your type, I think.  I know she’s definitely more to your sons’ liking.  Have a good time, Dickie.”  Isobel hung up and felt relieved.  The man belonged with Lady Prudence Shackleton.  Not that the title meant much these days, but the woman had it and Isobel didn’t…nor did she want a title.  Her father had a title which had done nothing but drive her mother crazy with the expectations it had brought with it.

At least now she’d come up with a solution for Dickie.

Now what about herself?

Looking at the clock, she sighed.  It was time to get up and get herself ready so she could be in the right spot at the appointed time for her fall.

“The man probably knocked me…” she started then stopped, her eyes growing wide.

Igor knew about the day repeating.

“The old bugger knocked me down on purpose!”

She frowned. 

Igor had more to do with this than he’d told her.

Pushing herself up off the sofa, she hurried toward her bedroom, stopping with a roll of her eyes when her phone pinged letting her know that she had a text.  Turning around and walking back the way she’d come, she grabbed her phone and read the message. 

_Talked to Richard.  Unsuccessful_. 

Sighing, she typed out her reply, _Thank you for trying_ , then hit send.

“Well, now I have time to grill Igor and get all of the truth out of him,” she told herself as she headed back to her bedroom, taking the phone with her this time.

“When is this mess going to end?”


	11. Chapter 11

December 24th – day eleven

 

Having once again watched the clock rewind itself, Isobel yawned and drug a hand over her face.  It was six o'clock and she needed to sleep, but her thoughts were such a jumble, pounding loudly in her brain, that sleep had become elusive.  She shrugged.  There was always tomorrow...well, today all over again...to try and sleep. 

"If I could just talk to Richard," she mumbled, knowing that it was thoughts of how she'd treated him that were keeping her from slumber.  "Blasted stubborn Scot!" she shouted at the empty room.  If only he had agreed when Elsie asked him to meet Isobel, but then again...why would he have agreed after the way things had been going between them?

Picking up her phone when it dinged, Isobel raised an eyebrow at Elsie's message.  "Now what?" she wondered.  _Meet me on the twelfth floor._ "The twelfth floor?" She frowned then sent an answer back.  _I think you're crackers, but fine.  What time?_   Getting an almost instantaneous response, she rolled her eyes.  The smart arse was just a bit too sure of herself.

Isobel pushed herself up from the sofa, folding the throw and placing it on top of the pillow she'd been resting on.  Stretching, she yawned and shook the tiredness off before making her way to her bedroom to take a shower and get ready.  She only had half an hour before she was to meet Elsie.

 

~*~

 

"Charlie, do you think this will work?"  Elsie whispered as they moved about the room. 

"I hope so, Love.  I had no luck with Richard."

"He's been very hurt, Charlie.  At least with you, someone wasn't trying to get you back with the woman that hurt you."

"Because that woman didn't love me.  Isobel _does_ love Richard."

"I never thought she'd be afraid of love."

"I didn't, either.  After all, she knew about my past with Alice and still pushed you toward me.  It never crossed my mind to think she'd be afraid."

"Never crossed Richard's mind, either."  Elsie sighed.

"We'll fix this Elsie.  She pushed you until you were nudging me along toward our life together.  We're just returning the favor."

"I don't think they're going to see it that way."

"Maybe not at first."  Charles winked at her.  "I wouldn't mind being locked in a room with you."

Elsie smiled, a blush on her cheeks at his implication.  "Maybe I'll test that statement...later."

Charles growled, "Behave," but his smoldering look gave him away.

"Don't look at me like that or it'll be us locked in this room...and getting caught out by Richard and Isobel."

Charles gave her a half leer, making as if he was going to go and lock the door then turning and pulling her against him, kissing her breathless. 

Elsie took a deep breath when Charles broke the kiss then gave him a sassy grin.  "Now who's misbehaving?"

Tapping her lightly on the derrière, Charles shook his head at her.  "Go on then, before I'm not teasing anymore about locking the door and we really are caught out by our friends."

 

~*~

 

Richard huffed as he leaned against the wall and slid to the floor.  "Why would they do this?" he mumbled.

Isobel stood staring out the window down into the construction going on outside that had rendered this floor unusable for the last several months.  "They care about us."

"And this is how they choose to show it?  By locking me into a room with the very woman that..." he stopped and shook his head.

Tears rolling down her cheeks, Isobel finished his sentence.  "The very woman that broke your heart and whose very presence you have avoided because all it does is make you remember what she did to you."

Richard looked up, startled to hear the tremble in her voice.  Studying her reflection in the glass of the window, he saw the tears that tracked down her cheeks, and suddenly the hardness of his heart was softened.  She was hurting, too.  Why hadn't he seen that?  He'd been her friend long before he'd fallen in love with her, and as her friend he should have seen the hurt she was suffering.

But he hadn't.

Love had gotten in the way.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered.

Isobel wiped at the tears then turned to face him.  "Sorry?  Why are you sorry?  I'm the one that hurt you and should be apologizing."

"I've been wrong for laying all the blame for this mess on you.  I let my hurt cloud my senses and I missed the fact that you've been hurting right along with me.  I've said things that I'm ashamed of and as your friend, I'm asking your forgiveness."

"Oh Richard," she cried as she turned away from him.  "I'm so sorry.  Deep down I suppose I knew that you were in love with me but I was so afraid of it..." she shook her head.

"And as your friend I should have known that my being in love with you, and telling you, would frighten you.  I knew how much you loved Reg, how his death devastated you, and I let love blind me."  Richard moved behind her and turned her to face him.  "I still love you, but if that is going to keep us from being the friends that we always were, then I'll shove it aside and forget about it and just be happy to be your friend again."

Isobel shook her head and reached up to caress his face.  "No.  I don't want that.  I want my friend back, but I don't want you to hide your love for me...not when I've finally admitted to myself that I love you."

"Are you sure?"

In answer, Isobel pulled his head down and pressed her lips to his as her arms slid around his neck.  Moaning when she felt his hands sliding to her waist, she shivered when he pulled her body flush with his.

Richard moved his mouth from hers, trailing the kiss from her face to her neck, nuzzling her ear before moving back to her lips.  The taste of her was intoxicating and he felt light headed.  Breaking the kiss, he stared at her glassy eyes.  "We have to stop or I can't promise to continue being a gentleman.  I don't want the first time I make love to you to be here on a hard floor or up against a wall."  His eyes grew dark as he gave her a wolfish grin.  "Though both of those are fantasies I'd like the opportunity to fulfill at some point."

Isobel felt herself blushing at the way he was looking at her...at the thought of him taking her against the wall or on the hard floor here in this little room.  "How long do you think they'll leave us locked in here?" she breathed.

"I think they've probably already been by to unlock the door."  Richard let her go and moved to check the door, smiling as it opened.

Isobel shook her head.  "Crafty devils."

"Good friends."

"Yes," she smiled as she agreed.  "I have something I need to do before I can leave, and I don’t really want anyone knowing about us just yet, so will you meet me at my house?"  Caressing a hand up over his shoulder, she tickled the back of his neck with her fingernails.

Brushing a stray curl from her face, Richard smiled as he nodded and agreed.  "Gladly."


	12. Chapter 12

December 24th – day twelve

 

Isobel smiled when she saw Richard coming out of the lift.  She'd tried most of the day to think of a way to get near enough to the man to talk to him but hadn't had much success.

"Richard!" she called out to him before he turned to go in the opposite direction.

Richard paused and took a deep breath, sighing it out before turning to face her.  "Yes?"

"Please?  Won't you come into my office for a moment?"

"Isobel..." he started.

"Please," she whispered, tears clouding her eyes in spite of her efforts to stop them.

Something in him softened at the sight of her tears, and the friend that he had been took over, shoving aside the man she'd hurt.  Walking to her, Richard stared down into her watery brown eyes.  "Isobel, I'm sorry."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing," she whispered, remembering their conversation from more than twenty-four hours ago.  Moving back into her office, she waited for him to come inside then closed and locked the door.  "I knew deep down that you were in love with me, but I was afraid."

"And as your friend I should have known that you would be.  I knew how devastated you were by Reg's death.  I let my love blind me, and for that I'm sorry."  Reaching out and gently grasping her arms, he held her gaze.  "I want my friend back.  If the only way for me to have that, is to shove aside my love for you, then that's what I'll do."

Isobel shook her head.  "No.  I don't want you to do that...not when I've finally admitted to myself that I love you."

"Are you sure?"

Isobel nodded as she lifted a hand and caressed his face.  "I’m sure."

Cupping her face with his hands, Richard smiled at her.  "Oh Isobel," he breathed then pressed his lips to hers.

Isobel hummed into his kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as his hands moved to her waist and pulled her body flush with his.  Moaning at the contact, she cupped the back of his head with her hand as the kiss deepened. 

Richard moved his kiss from her mouth to her neck, nuzzling behind her ear, relishing in the shiver he felt go through her and the moan that escaped her parted lips.  Feeling his control slipping away, he pulled back and let his forehead bump against hers.  "If we don't stop..." he took a deep breath.  "I don't want our first time to be up against a wall or on your desk."  He straightened up a bit and gave her a wolfish look.  "Though at some point I would like to fulfill those fantasies."

Isobel blushed and bit her lip.  "Meet me at my house in two hours.  I have something I need to do before I can go home."

Kissing her forehead, Richard brushed a stray curl from her face.  "Gladly."

 

~*~

 

"Come with me."  Isobel told Violet as she walked into the woman's sitting room.

"Well hello to you, too."  Violet huffed.

"Go change and come with me.  I have somewhere I want you to go."

Violet started to give a sharp reply but noticed the look her cousin was giving her.  "Fine," she acquiesced.

"Don't take too long.  I have my own meeting to get to."

Quirking an eyebrow, Violet gave Isobel a look.  "Oh?"

"Yes.  We'll have tea at some point after Christmas and discuss our mutual meetings."  Isobel returned the older woman's look.  "Why not wear that new dress I know you bought a few days ago?"

Violet frowned.  "Now how..." she started.

"No time.  Go on."

Huffing, Violet turned and walked up the stairs, the thump of her walking stick sounding out her frustration.

Isobel couldn't help but laugh.  She knew Violet wasn't angry with her.  The woman was nervous.  That was something else they had in common at the moment.

 

~*~

 

Isobel smiled as she thought of the happiness she'd seen on Igor's face as she'd delivered Violet to the appointed meeting place.  Knowing that they were somewhere no one would know who they were, he'd pulled Violet close and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.  That had been enough for her to know things were going to be okay for her cousin.

Now it was her turn.

Pulling into the drive, she carefully parked her car in the garage.  Taking a breath to settle her nerves, she was thankful to have made it home before Richard arrived.  She had plenty of time to change and set things up for what she'd been planning.

"Please don't let something get in the way this time," she pleaded to whoever or whatever was controlling this loop she'd found herself in.

Shaking herself out of her wayward thoughts, she got out of the car and rushed to the door then turned and hurried to push the button to close the garage door all the while laughing at herself for rushing about like an anxious teenager.

"Calm down, Isobel," she scolded herself as she took a deep breath and tried to calmly walk back to the door leading into the house.  Looking at her watch, she shook her head and chuckled when she realized…she'd forgotten her purse and packages in the car.

 

~*~

 

Richard sat in the chair Isobel had shoved him into after showing him to her kitchen and taking off his shirt shortly after he arrived.  As he watched her fussing about the room, he wondered what she was up to.  “Isobel…” he started but she cut him off.

“Shh.”

Sighing, he closed his mouth and continued to watch.  Frowning when she took out scissors and a straight razor, he quirked an eyebrow when a shave cup appeared from the box she’d brought to the kitchen.  She wasn’t going to shave off his mustache.  Right?  “Isobel, what are you…my mustache…”

Isobel giggled and shook her head.  “Shh.”

Getting frustrated, Richard crossed his arms with a huff.  She wasn’t shaving off his mustache!

Isobel couldn’t help but giggle again at the mutinous look on Richard's face.  Foolish man.  She'd always preferred clean shaven men, but the mustache was part of Richard's personality and she wouldn't get rid of it.  She'd just grow accustomed to it as she had everything else about the man.  His crazy hair, on the other hand, was an absolute no.  She preferred him with his hair the way it had been when they met.

Richard raised an eyebrow when Isobel came over to him and reached behind him to turn on the faucet.  "What are you doing?"

"Turning the water on."

"Isobel," he huffed.

"Shh.  Just relax," she whispered as she gently tilted his head back and cradled it in her hand.  Using her free hand, she cupped it under the water and let it pour out over his head, running her fingers through to wet it more until the water was dripping down into the sink.

Richard frowned when he heard the water turn off and then felt himself being gently maneuvered back into an upright position.  What in the world was this mad woman up to?

Carefully toweling some of the water away from his hair, Isobel draped the towel over his shoulders after she was finished then picked up the scissors Carlos had given her when she'd begged him to show her how to trim a man's hair.  Carefully lifting a section, she began to snip at it just as she'd been shown.

Richard blinked in surprise.  Since when did Isobel know how to cut hair?  He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again knowing he would only be told to shush.  Doing his best to remain still, he fretted that his hair would never be the same.

Isobel bit her lip to keep from laughing at the mumbling she could hear, sure that Richard didn't realize he was doing it.  Successfully finishing with his hair, she put the scissors back on the table and picked up the comb Carlos had given her.  Smiling as she smoothed Richard's hair into the shape she was used to, she had to fight the sudden urge to run her fingers through it and mess it up.  Shaking the feeling off, she put the comb back on the table then picked up the shave cup to start the next part of her plan. 

Blinking when Isobel started covering his face in foam, Richard opened his mouth to protest and found himself spluttering at the taste as he wound up with a mouth full of the stuff. 

"Shh."  Isobel laughed and helped him wipe the foam from his mouth then moved to fill a glass with water.

Scowling at her, Richard took the water then swished a drink of it around his mouth before standing and turning to spit it out in the sink.

"Sit."

"Isobel!"

"Just sit, please?  I'm not going to touch your beloved mustache."

Feeling the sudden urge to stick his tongue out at her as a child would, Richard pushed the urge aside and sat down with a huff.

Deciding that she'd put enough foam on Richard's face, Isobel put a towel over her shoulder then picked up the razor.  Holding the sharp item a few moments to get the feel of its weight in her hand, she took a deep breath then carefully pulled the razor down over Richard's cheek, her free hand titling his head just so to get the right angle.

Relaxing once he realized Isobel knew what she was doing, Richard felt something else replacing his nervousness. 

An aching need.

It'd been years since he was with a woman.

Most of those years had been spent craving the love and touch of _this_ woman.

 

~*~

 

Fifteen minutes later, Isobel was gently wiping away the bits of foam that had been left behind on Richard's face.  Sitting back to look at her handy work, she smiled at him.  "No nicks and your mustache is still intact."

"Mmm," was his only response.

Standing up, she placed the towel back on the table, then turned to him with an arched eyebrow.  "So?  Is it smooth enough?"

Reaching out and grasping her wrist, he tugged her toward him.  "You tell me."

Settling herself on his lap, her legs on either side of his, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his cheek.  "Mmm…yes," she whispered.

Richard felt a chill rush down his spine with the warmth of her breathy whisper moving across the skin of his face and the feel of her lower body pressed so intimately against him.  Resting his hands on her hips, he looked up at her.  "Isobel," he whispered.

Pressing a finger to his lips, Isobel shook her head.  Holding his gaze, she moved her hands to the tie of her dress and pulled, shivering when the material fell away and exposed her lace clad body.

Letting his gaze drop, Richard's breath caught.  Every thought that crossed his mind was suddenly jumbled up between Gaelic and English and making absolutely no sense.  Alabaster covered in burgundy lace was the one thought that _did_ make sense, and made the aching need he'd felt earlier return tenfold.

Sliding her hands up his chest then over his shoulders, Isobel gripped the back of the chair and pressed her upper body against his.  Lowering her head, she blew lightly on his ear then nipped the lobe.  "I can feel how much you want me," she breathed.

Smoothing his hands along her thighs, Richard groaned.  He wanted her, his body was practically demanding that he take her here and now, but making love to Isobel, the first time, was not going to happen in her kitchen.  "Isobel," he finally managed to pant out as he moved his hands to grip her waist.  "Not here."

Isobel took a few deep breaths then eased herself off his lap and held out her hand.  "Then come to bed with me."

Kissing her neck as he followed her, Richard couldn't help but chuckle when she scolded him for teasing.

Stopping beside the bed, Isobel bit her lip as she watched Richard tug his vest up over his head, tossing it to the floor behind him.  He was more than she'd imagined he would be.  She couldn't help but think of his chest pressed against hers.

Moving closer to her, Richard leaned forward to press his lips to hers, but paused at the feel of her exhaled breath.  Standing and just breathing her in, he pushed the dress from her body before unclasping her bra, wanting to feel her bare flesh against his own as he pulled her close.  "I dreamed of this," he whispered.

"Me standing here in my knickers and stockings and you in your trousers and socks?"

Richard laughed as he pressed her body closer.  "The cheek," he breathed against her ear before tracing the shell with the tip of his tongue.

"Ooh," she moaned as she gripped his shoulders. 

In between kisses, they finished undressing, then found themselves on the bed facing each other.

Hands and mouths busy, they reveled in the senses of touch and taste as they learned each other's bodies.  Both moaning when their bodies joined, the world narrowed down to just the two of them in the dimly lit bedroom.

Completion, when it came, brought tears and whispered words of love and promises of a future together.

 

~*~

 

The aching need that had overtaken him was finally satisfied...at least for the moment.  The growling of his stomach signaled another need that he would have to see to.  Hearing Isobel giggle, Richard tapped her bottom.  "It's your fault."

Lifting her head from his stomach, Isobel arched an eyebrow.  "My fault?"

"You seduced me."

Grinning, she nodded.  "So I did."

"I'm not complaining.  I'd gladly give up eating if it meant a repeat.  You were amazing."

Blushing at his compliment, she stopped and stared at the clock.  It was one minute to midnight.  Heart pounding, she kept watch until the clock moved to one minute past...never rolling back.

Seeing the tears, Richard sat up and pulled Isobel into his arms.  "What is it?"

"It's Christmas," she whispered.

Richard frowned and looked at the clock.  "Yes, it is, but why the tears?"

Relaxing against him, Isobel sighed as she caressed his arm.  "There is so much I need to tell you about Christmas Eve.  I promise to explain it all but for now let's go find something to eat and then get some sleep.  We'll have a long day ahead, telling our friends and Matthew about us."

Studying her as she moved from the bed and pulled on her dressing gown, Richard wondered again at the tears and reaction to it being Christmas.  Getting out of bed, he picked up his trousers and pulled them on, reaching out and catching her before she left the room.  Turning her into his arms, he caressed her cheek.  "Happy Christmas."

Pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand, Isobel smiled at him.  "It is indeed a very happy Christmas."  Taking his hand, she tugged him behind her as she made her way to the kitchen.  "Come along.  I have so much to tell you."

Richard couldn't help but laugh as he followed, trying to keep up with her.  Shaking his head when he recognized the song she was humming, he squeezed her hand to make her stop.  " _The Twelve Days of Christmas_?"

Isobel grinned.  "You have _no_ idea."


End file.
